I started writing this while my grandmother was in the hospital. I finished it almost a year later. Due to the emotional struggles I finally just went back to it, three years after the battle started. I'm finally sharing. Not horses, but its a huge part of my life and the way my Grandmother lived her life is the inspiration for Leos show name "Seize the Moment" who I purchased during the time she was in the hospital. Grab a tissue, and here you go.
On October 24, 2011 the most important person to me started on a very long,hard, and upsetting rode. I was sitting in my in-laws basement watching the football game when I got the call that my 63yo grandmother Linda had just had a stroke and was on her way to the hospital. I was filled with panic, complete and utter terror and unable to speak, unable to cry, just shocked by the whole thing. I was scared to death. I darted up the steps, every person in that house knew something very terrible had happened but in my shock I was unable to litterate what was going on. I remember the confused and worried looks on their faces as they all waited for me to tell them what was going on. It felt like everything was in slow motion. I finally blurted out along with gags and tears that "grandma had a stroke" everyone heard me, but their disabelief and shock prevented them from comprehending right away. I said it again, "grandma had a stroke". I dont know who all hugged me, or what really happened next, I just remember frantically grabbing my shoes and trying to rush out the door. My husband Scott is the calmest and most logical person in times of need and was just shocked and dumbfounded to start with, too taken aback to realize he had to get his shoes and drive me to the hospital. My mother in-law was hugging me and saying it'd be alright, I remember stammering back at her "but its my grandma! Shes my grandma! not my grandma!". I then had to call my brother and tell him. It took several tries before he understood the words coming out of my mouth through all the blubbering. Once he could tell what I was saying the grief and shock struck him as he started to cry on the phone and said he'd meet us at the hospital. I had to pick up my cousin on the way and as we both bawl in the car Scott, being the caring but obsessive individual he is, is trying to comfort us yet is still in panic himself and cant figure out where to go. I call my work and try to stammer out that I wont be there in the morning because my grandmother had a stroke. I dont know if they understood a word of what was said, but the meaning of the call was clear. By the time we reach the hospital were all numb from emotion. We feel nothing. Theres a large group of family members waiting in the lobby, everyone just as numb and emotionless as me. I grab my mother and rush back to see my grandmother who is still very coherent and waiting for tests to be done. I try not to cry, but im being faced with a disaster I have no clue what the outcome will be, and it involves the most amazing woman I know. I cry as I talk with her and its clear to me shes had a stroke as the left side of her face droops and her left arm is imobile. Why cant the doctors see it and speed up this process? Time is of the essence in such a situation. Right away im mad, but I have no time for that, I talk with her, comfort her, or at least attempt to although the tears streaming down my face probably prevent any sort of comfort coming to her. We leave so others can see her. We keep switching off for the next hour until they finally take her in for a CT scan. By then shes confused, slurring her speach and not processing information the way she should be. By now im furious, but again I have no time for that emotion, im more worried and panicked over the results. The doctors come in to see us in a private family room-you know thats never good. Amongst all the information told to us I grasp the blaring facts. Shes had a hemoratic stroke which caused excessive bleeding in her brain. The blood build up is pushing her brain into her spinal column. She needs to be flown to UVA for immediate brain surgery because they dont have the facilities to deal with that sort of stroke there. Theres a 1% chance shell wake up after surgery. A 1% chance shell live. 1%. I dont remember what everyone else did at that point, its hard to see them when your looking through a pile of tears. I could hear them in the background although it was muffeled and in slow motion. 1%, 1%, 1% chance. My head was throbbing. I couldn't comprehend anything, i just knew there was crying, panic, complete disbelief. All around me. I hear the grief, I hear the Doctor, I hear my husband, I hear and hear but im not understanding a word. I drop to my knees and I pray, I pray through the tears and panic in the room. I pray for what seems an eternity. The family then packs it up to drive to UVA but I dont remember any of this. Im like a robot, going through the motions of what I assume were "good-byes", "Ill meet you theres", and getting in the car and going. Its a long 1 hour trip to the hospital, numb and still in disbelief. When will I wake up? 15 of us pile into the family waiting room at the ICU unit. We wait, and wait, and wait. Grandma was rushed into immediate surgery upon arriving and the estimated time is 4hrs but with prepping and cleaning its easily 6 or more hours. We wait. No one wants to talk at first. No one wants to cry and infect us all with the pain again, we all just sit there. Numb. We eventually talk some, about anything. The daughters, my mother and aunts, tell us to get some rest that itll be a long night. Its 4am, my mind is racing as my inspiration over the years has her life hanging by a thread. Sleep? Not possible. Were all watching for the clock to hit 7am, thats when we should have news. The clock ticks slowly. We all still have little to talk about. Eventually the emotional exhaustion hits most of us and we fall asleep early in the morning. On the floor, piling chairs together for a bed, whatever we could find to be as comfortable as possible in a hospital waiting room. I wake up before 7am, and I sit there and realize that this really is happening. Im silent, like everyone else. No one will admit it, but were all watching the clock and waiting intently. 7am passes, and the tension in the room builds with every minute. 7:45 comes and my patience is worn and I have to break the silence and ask when we will have some news! No point in asking, no one knows anything more than the others. Some time after 8am we meet with a doctor. Again I dont understand much of the conversation but I pick out enough. Grandma has made it through surgery and a part of her brain was removed. They cant stop the bleeding at the moment so she has to be taken off of blood thinners which shed been on for over 15 years from a previous open heart surgery. This leaves her with an irregular heart beat but is the better chance for preventing another severe brain bleed. Damage cant be accessed at that time of course and shes currently un-responsive but the surgery is behind us. The portion of her brain removed could result in hearing and eyesight loss but they wouldnt know until she woke up. The next couple days are critical. At that point, were all waiting, things are still hanging by a thread and the days run together. We are allowed to visit her, where we cry and cry as we talk to a motionless body. We pray hard, we hug and we kiss, and we get no reaction. Can she hear, does she know were there? After a couple days things start to happen. She makes attempts to open her eyes but its hard, she starts to move a finger or two on her right hand. We all spend a lot of time at the hospital, visiting with her and massaging her because shes puffy from all the fluid build up. I feel hopeful. I have faith. Shes an amazing woman, always has been, and shes very strong so if anyone can pull through, Grandma can. Her progress continues, and she starts to squeeze your hand as you talk with her. That progresses into a thumbs up. I have never felt something more uplifting than a thumbs up from someone who is fighting against the odds of 1%. It brings tears to your eyes and it makes your body feel light, words cant describe the warmth and lifting your heart feels from such a simple gesture. It was all she could do to let us know she was there and she was listening, and it was all we need. Everyone was filled with excitement. Those who didnt get a thumbs up were jealous of those who did, but in time everyone got one. She kept getting stronger. Her eyes finally opened, her hand was squeezing and moving, her toes were twitching. She continued to improve and fight, defeating the odds with every day. After a week the doctors met with us again. Were seeing a miracle as its happening, the doctors have news that shatters some of us. Yes shes doing well, but shes still not fully awake, shes in a sort of dreamlike in-between state. Her responses are getting stronger and better but shes still at the minimal level. All of that we knew. What we didnt know was that there was an 80% mortality rate for the first month after this sort of stroke and surgery. Those amazing thumbs up werent even enough to lift our hearts after hearing that news. For a day or two we were all robots again, hanging on to every moment we could and praying she'd continue to push through. Eventually it hit us all, she survived with a 1% chance, now shes got a 20% chance! Why wont she make it! As the next two weeks went on she just got better and better. She was turning her head towards sounds, she was looking directly at you, and was trying to make other hand gestures. She was amazing in every way. For weeks she was in that in-between state. Not in a coma, but not fully concious. This concept was very difficult for me to understand. She would communicate with us and move her body, how could she not be awake? She made her own sign language and it was a game to figure out what it was she meant. We eventually were all able to piece it together and she communicated in this way for several days. She made huge efforts to talk but some things were very hard to understand since we were mainly reading her lips. She wasnt strong enough to produce actual sound yet. She started writing small things to us when we couldnt understand. Her writing was sloppy and because of intermittent brain waves (due to the small bleeding she still had) the words would have repeating letters through it. Little could be spelled out as littittle. We still had to work hard to decipher what she meant at times, but things were moving forward. There were set backs, like MRSA infection, and this was scary for all of us. That scare increased when tests came back that she had vegitation on her heart and needed open heart surgery for a replacement of two heart valves. This was going to be a risk because surgery is done with a patient on blood thinners, which she still couldnt be on. After days of debate the decision was made to go with pig valves over artificial, and she was likely to survive surgery although there are always risks involved. In mid November Grandma made it through, like I expected her to because again, shes amazing, but it was a set back. There was still the risk of some vegitation being left over and of the MRSA attacking the new valves. Things continued to move in the right direction, she was mobile on her right side but little to no movement on the left. It could just take time they said, theres no way to know what functions she will regain. She was eating, brushing her teeth, moving from the bed to the chair (with help) and communicating with us at a higher level. Things were looking up and we were all feeling confident. On December 1st, 2011 Grandma was moved to the UVA rehab center Health South. A month and a half after her 1% chance, and making it past the 80% mortality rate for the first month ALONG WITH open heart surgery, she was moving to rehab. Shed surprised many with her progress, but we all knew it was just because she was a strong and willful woman and God clearly loved her as much as we did. He gave her a miracle, or maybe more, and we knew it. She was amazing. Even though she was defying the odds, it didnt come with optimism every moment. The hospital stay, the fighting for her life through things that should have taken her, and through a brain surgery, open heart surgery, and small brain surgery to put a shunt in all took a tole on her enthusiasm. Grandma was battling with depression and emotions were out of control. She wasnt the same. The smallest thing was upsetting and it built up until she couldnt hold it in any more. Something as simple as having a sore bum from spending so much time in a wheelchair would bring her to tears. You know it was her worries and fears pushing her to that point but shed never admit it. Its hard to see someone you respect, who is that amazing and strong, who was worthy enough to be grandted a miracle from God, break down and cry. Theres nothing you can say or do to make her feel better, the situation has been hard on all of us, but no one has had it harder than her. She tried hard through her rehab, it was difficult, it was painful, it was tearful, but she tried. And tried. And tried. There were limitations because of her heart surgery, but she improved and conquered things in her path. She was able to walk with assistance. She was getting stronger and stronger. Then there were set backs. Pneumonia, the heart valve that was never 100%, and the stress of constant rehab. She improved so much then started to sink back down. She was supposed to come home January 10th, it got pushed back, there was another date set, it got pushed back. Things continued to get pushed back. The will of this amazing woman was decreasing as well. It was like a trap she was never going to get out of. Her young grandkids, young great grandkids, and the birth of her first great grandson were things she couldnt take part in. Only kids of a certain age could visit due to the MRSA. Family has always been the most important thing to Grandma, so missing out on them growing, and especially the birth, really took a toll on her. The constant worrying, the long trips to visit her, some of the family spending extended periods of time in the hospitality house located next to a bar and train tracks, it all took its toll. My grandfather, who was used to being a very busy man and constantly fiddling around with building things and working was now spending every moment by her side. She needed him. She cried if he wasnt there, he was her savior through all of this. The strong bond they share, the love they have, she needed that with her all the time to keep pushing. It made it hard on him, seeing her struggle and having to be there through it all. Sitting by her bedside holding her hand every moment because without it shed become depressed. He needed a release but he couldnt get it, and the thoughts of shame filled him along with everyone else. At some point we all felt shameful. How dare we move on with our lives when she was struggling every day for hers. Not a day went by that I didnt spend thinking about her. Praying for her. Hoping God would continue to help her through. There were a few times she ended up back in the hospital. Bleeding problems and a fear it could cause another stroke, pneumonia making her heart work harder, MRSA effecting her and her heart. There was the possibility the MRSA had settled in the bone of her right knee and may need surgery. That brought on a lot of fears, that was her good leg, what would happen if she couldnt use it? Finally Grandma came home March 16 2012. She had recently spent a few weeks in the hospital because of pneumonia and another hole in her valve and her strength had deminished and her progress was sinking. She had to have one more heart surgery before coming home to repair where the valve was seperating due to the MRSA infection getting it. It was too risky to do open heart, so they did a less invasive surgery to repair the split. They felt confident, but knew it wasnt 100%. I went to visit and I sat there trying to think of what to discuss with her. Things were different. I wanted to soak it all in, just being with her, as I was now shown (again) that tomorrow is not promised. This time I was given a second chance with someone and I didnt know how to approach it. What do you say to someone who has been fighting for their life and beat all odds. Other than how you love them. But that sounds too much like a goodbye, and Id had that talk with too many times while she was still in critical condition. So we talked about petty unimportant things. I hated it, I hated acting like nothing had happened but what else do you do? I soaked up every moment though, even as she started to doze off in her chair, I just watched her and stopped talking. I let her sleep and just thought of all the memories I had with her. I felt uneasy, just like the day she had her stroke before it happened. Something didnt seem right. Even though I had prayed a million times to help me follow my instincts more I yet again shoved them aside. No, she was amazing and things were fine. So I paid attention to the petty stuff and ignored my gut. We didnt stay too long, I told myself we would go back soon and see her again when she was stronger and feeling better. We never made it back there. Something ill always regret, yet again I didnt make the time for the truly important things in life. The sole most important person to me, and I pushed it off for tomorrow. After a short time at home she was getting weaker, and then on 3/24/12 her heart valve ruptured and caused massive internal bleeding. She was rushed to the hospital and things were not looking good. Shes been through a lot, there was speculation there had been a small bleed happening for some time, but the rupture and massive bleeding was an extremely critical situation. Again, were all piled in the family room at the hospital waiting in numb silence for the results of the tests. She was having multi-organ failure, things were hanging in the balance. The hospital again did not have the facilities to keep her and UVA had no room for her, this meant a longer trip to Richmond. We were told that if she didnt go there she'd die before the end of the night, but she was unstable and transporting her was dangerous. We were told that chances were, she wouldn't make it through the flight to Richmond. Were all in shock. How can she overcome so much and then have this happen? What more could her and her body take? Was this stupid heart valve really going to be the end of her through everything else? When we got the call she had made it to Richmond we were all astonished, yet worried. Yes, shes amazing, and obviously she is still fighting and clearly God is still on her side but surgery was a huge risk when she was as unstable as she was. My mother and some other family members drove the 2 1/2hrs to Richmond. I stayed behind due to being sick with a cold and being pregnant. Pregnant with the child that she prayed and prayed about, saying "I want to live long enough to see Meagan give birth". She was so ecstatic I was having a child and she was the first person I told. We discussed names, talked about his room, skyped over baby perperations. Yet I was only 5 months Pregnant and she was fighting for her life every moment. I had always planned on having her in the room when I gave birth, and that was slowly being shattered. I didnt feel strong enough to go through it all again. I just couldnt. I couldnt handle the emotions. But who am I to say I couldnt take that when shes made it through how much? Again the shame came, along with the worry, fear, sadness, and all over numbness. After a long talk with the doctors a decision was made to do immediate heart surgery. The doctors were very clear, they wouldnt typically do that surgery, or any, on someone in her position. They would simply try to make her as comfortable as possible until she passed. But, because she is amazing, had had a miraculous recovery, and had shown she clearly had stuff in her life worth fighting for the doctors decided theyd take the chance and perform the surgery. Damage from the bleed would be assessed later, much later. There was no way of knowing the extent of what had been done to her brain, organs, and heart. All they knew was that without surgery she would die, with surgery she might die. Again there was the wait. Waiting for any sort of answer. Waiting for any sort of response. She made it through surgery and for the first time the Doctors felt 100% about her heart. They had removed all vegitation and connected the valve to good tissue and felt it would hold. That was a relief. But was it a little too late? Why didnt UVA do that before? Would she even be in this position had it been done that way the first time? You can play with the "what if's" in life until you what-if yourself to death. I still prayed, and I still felt hope and faith in the situation. On March 26 she opened her eyes and was responsive to the nurses asking if she was in pain. She had pulled through another surgery but the road ahead was so unclear. She was on dialisis, needed to be on a breathing machine, and infection was found in her intestines. Surgery was done for that, but the tissue was too weak to close up afterwards. There was a resistant strand of bacteria found in her body which was posing problems in the healing process, adding it to everything else she had no energy left in her. There was too much to fight so she spent most of her time sleeping. I didnt go see her in Richmond for a very long time. I made excuse after excuse. Really, I didnt want to accept reality was all. I didnt want to admit that, to anyone including myself, but I couldnt bring myself to face what seemed like the truth. No matter how much faith I put into her getting better I ultimately had a nagging feeling that this was all too much for her. I regret not spending more time with her but it was like if I acted like things were normal then I could trick myself into thinking they were. And all would be fine. Grandma continued to fight but her body was giving up on her. She at one point told my mother that she wanted to fight, but her body wasnt going to let her. She knew what was going to happen, but she didnt want to give up or disappoint us. She continued on, in pain, just for her family. That was always the most important thing to her. She started to have heart problems, it was too weak to recover and was wanting to quite on her. Thats when I made my trip up to Richmond. I was scared the whole way. All I could think about was that I wasnt strong enough to go through this again and especially not being 6 months pregnant. I was scared. Scared for me, my unborn son, my family, and my amazing Grandmother who was going through it all. I had been selfish, selfish keeping myself from her and talking with her simply because I was weak. I was afraid to face her, especially since I knew what it meant. This was my goodbye. We all knew there was no turning around. She had already been on borrowed time, which I was extremely thankful for, but at some point that time runs out. I walked into that room, and I silently cried to myself as I watched her sleeping. She was so thin, so weak, she wasnt herself. She wasnt the strong and powerful woman that could change the energy in a room just by walking in. She was frail, she was sickly, she was weak. I started talking and her eyes popped open wide in surprise. I forced a laugh and joked with her about her surprise but inside I wanted to die. How was it that I had been away for so long that she was surprised, surprised!!!, to see me? How could I do that to her! She has some light flicker through her eyes, she grabbed my hand, and I continued to talk. I tried to tell her the impact shed made in my life, something that was not easy to put into words. No one will ever know the extent of what she has done for me. I owe who I am to her. Even as a young child in elementary school and through high school she was my topic of choice in writing papers. She was what I talked about, desired to be like, and wanted to share with the world. She dozed off shortly into the conversation but offered occasional nods and mouthing "I love you's" to me. It broke my heart, and I choked up as I said it, but I told her "I know youve been fighting, and I want nothing more than for you to continue fighting, but you and only you know if thats the right choice and I want you to know that if its not the choice, and you have to stop, please do so without shame. Your not going to disappiont us because your the most exceptional woman ever and youve already proved how amazing and strong you are as well as proving that God thought you were worthy of a miracle. Youve proved enough and we all know how much you love us. You have to do whats right for you, and if that means giving up the fight, then do so without worrying about us. We support you and know youll do whats best. Listen to God and please dont worry about disappointing us!" I meant it, but I didnt want to believe it. I wanted SO BAD to tell her to keep fighting, to tell her that I couldnt lose her, to tell her that I dont know what Id do without her in my life. But I couldnt. I couldnt make her keep fighting and hurting herself just to make me happy. Because she would. I was her grandbaby, not just her grandchild. She did everything to please me because we had a special bond. I couldnt put that sort of pressure on her. But I didnt want to lose her either. It was the hardest, and most mature, decision I have EVER made. She gave me a squeeze and I eventually said my final goodbye. My brother went in after, where he poured his heart out to her. He told her things hes never opened up about to anyone, and that the only person who could ever get him straight was her. She had an amazing impact on everyone. His goodbye was extremely heartfelt and honest. I wasnt there for it, but I know because I know him well and understand the impact she made on us. My heart was overwhelmed with warmth when he came back and said the only time she opened her eyes was when he mentioned my name. That sealed the faith I always had in our relationship. Yet, again, I meant that much to her and she to me and I left her. Abandoned her. Refused to go see her because I was weak. I prayed for forgiveness from her for that. I know she forgives, because I could never do wrong in her eyes and she was always an exceptionally understanding individual. But that doesnt mean it still doesnt hurt. That its still not a flaw in my character at the time that I would love to just go back and slap myself for being so stupid. Yet I did it again. After that visit I didnt go back. I couldnt. The decision was made several days later to take her off of life support because we werent doing her any good. I chose not to go see her again. I told my mother that I had said my goodbyes. I still deal wtih the guilt of not seeing her agian. But I couldnt, I didnt want to remember her like that. I let her go as I was hours away from her. Shortly before passing my mother called me to let me speak with her. She said that was the most lucid she had been in quite some time. I always seemed to get the side of her. Like it was Gods way of protecting my cherished memories not to see or hear her in such a bad state. (In a way). I said goodbye over the phone as I sat in my car bawling my eyes out. I wanted to hug her one last time. I wanted to hear her say "Love you baby" as she patted my butt and kissed my cheek. I just wanted her. The call was brief but I wanted to drag it out forever. I told her I loved her, that she was amazing and meant the world to me and I owed my life to her. And I cried and cried. She passed away not too long after. I was told some of her final words were "Dont worry, Im ok" and that gave me hope. She really was with God and he was leading her home. She knew the path she was going and she gave us a message to help us cope and move on. She did always look out for her family, even in her last moments that was her only thought. How to help her family. I take solice in the phrase. It means a lot to me. Im thankful that God felt strongly enough for this amazing woman that he gave her several miracles. In the end, yes, she passed way too soon, but she could have passed much sooner. She could have died that day, back in October, all of a sudden due to a stroke. But she didnt. He wanted to help her teach us even more life lessons. Show us how to fight and what to fight for. Bring a family together and bond them, strengthen them, and humble them all at the same time. She taught us more in her last seven months than she did in our whole lives, and that is saying A LOT. I have never, and will never, meet someone as exceptionally spectacular as her ever again. She had a true genuine soul, and honest nature, and never judged. She was the epitomy of what you should live your life by accoridng to God. She would light up the room and fill it with laughter and no matter what type of person you were, you always wanted to do better when she was around. She made me better and I will continue to strive to do better in my life and be the person she was and I have her to look up to for that. Only those she touched truly understand her impact, and its something words will never be able to describe. I love you, with all of my heart and being, Grandma. I think of you every day and my heart still aches to have lost such an exceptional person. I always knew she would die young because she was too good to stay long. I wish it hadnt been true, but at least I can brag about having you as my grandmother. If only everyone had been as graced as me. I thank the Lord for having you, and I thank you for showing me the right way and guiding me throughout the years. I pray I do half as well as you at raising my family as the years come. Please continue to guide me as you always have and I will continue to try and make you proud. Love isnt a strong enough word to describe my feelings for my Grandmother, and amazing doesnt do her justice either, but its all I have to say. Thank you, and I love you to the most amazing woman I have ever met. MY Grandmother.
On October 24, 2011 the most important person to me started on a very long,hard, and upsetting rode. I was sitting in my in-laws basement watching the football game when I got the call that my 63yo grandmother Linda had just had a stroke and was on her way to the hospital. I was filled with panic, complete and utter terror and unable to speak, unable to cry, just shocked by the whole thing. I was scared to death. I darted up the steps, every person in that house knew something very terrible had happened but in my shock I was unable to litterate what was going on. I remember the confused and worried looks on their faces as they all waited for me to tell them what was going on. It felt like everything was in slow motion. I finally blurted out along with gags and tears that "grandma had a stroke" everyone heard me, but their disabelief and shock prevented them from comprehending right away. I said it again, "grandma had a stroke". I dont know who all hugged me, or what really happened next, I just remember frantically grabbing my shoes and trying to rush out the door. My husband Scott is the calmest and most logical person in times of need and was just shocked and dumbfounded to start with, too taken aback to realize he had to get his shoes and drive me to the hospital. My mother in-law was hugging me and saying it'd be alright, I remember stammering back at her "but its my grandma! Shes my grandma! not my grandma!". I then had to call my brother and tell him. It took several tries before he understood the words coming out of my mouth through all the blubbering. Once he could tell what I was saying the grief and shock struck him as he started to cry on the phone and said he'd meet us at the hospital. I had to pick up my cousin on the way and as we both bawl in the car Scott, being the caring but obsessive individual he is, is trying to comfort us yet is still in panic himself and cant figure out where to go. I call my work and try to stammer out that I wont be there in the morning because my grandmother had a stroke. I dont know if they understood a word of what was said, but the meaning of the call was clear. By the time we reach the hospital were all numb from emotion. We feel nothing. Theres a large group of family members waiting in the lobby, everyone just as numb and emotionless as me. I grab my mother and rush back to see my grandmother who is still very coherent and waiting for tests to be done. I try not to cry, but im being faced with a disaster I have no clue what the outcome will be, and it involves the most amazing woman I know. I cry as I talk with her and its clear to me shes had a stroke as the left side of her face droops and her left arm is imobile. Why cant the doctors see it and speed up this process? Time is of the essence in such a situation. Right away im mad, but I have no time for that, I talk with her, comfort her, or at least attempt to although the tears streaming down my face probably prevent any sort of comfort coming to her. We leave so others can see her. We keep switching off for the next hour until they finally take her in for a CT scan. By then shes confused, slurring her speach and not processing information the way she should be. By now im furious, but again I have no time for that emotion, im more worried and panicked over the results. The doctors come in to see us in a private family room-you know thats never good. Amongst all the information told to us I grasp the blaring facts. Shes had a hemoratic stroke which caused excessive bleeding in her brain. The blood build up is pushing her brain into her spinal column. She needs to be flown to UVA for immediate brain surgery because they dont have the facilities to deal with that sort of stroke there. Theres a 1% chance shell wake up after surgery. A 1% chance shell live. 1%. I dont remember what everyone else did at that point, its hard to see them when your looking through a pile of tears. I could hear them in the background although it was muffeled and in slow motion. 1%, 1%, 1% chance. My head was throbbing. I couldn't comprehend anything, i just knew there was crying, panic, complete disbelief. All around me. I hear the grief, I hear the Doctor, I hear my husband, I hear and hear but im not understanding a word. I drop to my knees and I pray, I pray through the tears and panic in the room. I pray for what seems an eternity. The family then packs it up to drive to UVA but I dont remember any of this. Im like a robot, going through the motions of what I assume were "good-byes", "Ill meet you theres", and getting in the car and going. Its a long 1 hour trip to the hospital, numb and still in disbelief. When will I wake up? 15 of us pile into the family waiting room at the ICU unit. We wait, and wait, and wait. Grandma was rushed into immediate surgery upon arriving and the estimated time is 4hrs but with prepping and cleaning its easily 6 or more hours. We wait. No one wants to talk at first. No one wants to cry and infect us all with the pain again, we all just sit there. Numb. We eventually talk some, about anything. The daughters, my mother and aunts, tell us to get some rest that itll be a long night. Its 4am, my mind is racing as my inspiration over the years has her life hanging by a thread. Sleep? Not possible. Were all watching for the clock to hit 7am, thats when we should have news. The clock ticks slowly. We all still have little to talk about. Eventually the emotional exhaustion hits most of us and we fall asleep early in the morning. On the floor, piling chairs together for a bed, whatever we could find to be as comfortable as possible in a hospital waiting room. I wake up before 7am, and I sit there and realize that this really is happening. Im silent, like everyone else. No one will admit it, but were all watching the clock and waiting intently. 7am passes, and the tension in the room builds with every minute. 7:45 comes and my patience is worn and I have to break the silence and ask when we will have some news! No point in asking, no one knows anything more than the others. Some time after 8am we meet with a doctor. Again I dont understand much of the conversation but I pick out enough. Grandma has made it through surgery and a part of her brain was removed. They cant stop the bleeding at the moment so she has to be taken off of blood thinners which shed been on for over 15 years from a previous open heart surgery. This leaves her with an irregular heart beat but is the better chance for preventing another severe brain bleed. Damage cant be accessed at that time of course and shes currently un-responsive but the surgery is behind us. The portion of her brain removed could result in hearing and eyesight loss but they wouldnt know until she woke up. The next couple days are critical. At that point, were all waiting, things are still hanging by a thread and the days run together. We are allowed to visit her, where we cry and cry as we talk to a motionless body. We pray hard, we hug and we kiss, and we get no reaction. Can she hear, does she know were there? After a couple days things start to happen. She makes attempts to open her eyes but its hard, she starts to move a finger or two on her right hand. We all spend a lot of time at the hospital, visiting with her and massaging her because shes puffy from all the fluid build up. I feel hopeful. I have faith. Shes an amazing woman, always has been, and shes very strong so if anyone can pull through, Grandma can. Her progress continues, and she starts to squeeze your hand as you talk with her. That progresses into a thumbs up. I have never felt something more uplifting than a thumbs up from someone who is fighting against the odds of 1%. It brings tears to your eyes and it makes your body feel light, words cant describe the warmth and lifting your heart feels from such a simple gesture. It was all she could do to let us know she was there and she was listening, and it was all we need. Everyone was filled with excitement. Those who didnt get a thumbs up were jealous of those who did, but in time everyone got one. She kept getting stronger. Her eyes finally opened, her hand was squeezing and moving, her toes were twitching. She continued to improve and fight, defeating the odds with every day. After a week the doctors met with us again. Were seeing a miracle as its happening, the doctors have news that shatters some of us. Yes shes doing well, but shes still not fully awake, shes in a sort of dreamlike in-between state. Her responses are getting stronger and better but shes still at the minimal level. All of that we knew. What we didnt know was that there was an 80% mortality rate for the first month after this sort of stroke and surgery. Those amazing thumbs up werent even enough to lift our hearts after hearing that news. For a day or two we were all robots again, hanging on to every moment we could and praying she'd continue to push through. Eventually it hit us all, she survived with a 1% chance, now shes got a 20% chance! Why wont she make it! As the next two weeks went on she just got better and better. She was turning her head towards sounds, she was looking directly at you, and was trying to make other hand gestures. She was amazing in every way. For weeks she was in that in-between state. Not in a coma, but not fully concious. This concept was very difficult for me to understand. She would communicate with us and move her body, how could she not be awake? She made her own sign language and it was a game to figure out what it was she meant. We eventually were all able to piece it together and she communicated in this way for several days. She made huge efforts to talk but some things were very hard to understand since we were mainly reading her lips. She wasnt strong enough to produce actual sound yet. She started writing small things to us when we couldnt understand. Her writing was sloppy and because of intermittent brain waves (due to the small bleeding she still had) the words would have repeating letters through it. Little could be spelled out as littittle. We still had to work hard to decipher what she meant at times, but things were moving forward. There were set backs, like MRSA infection, and this was scary for all of us. That scare increased when tests came back that she had vegitation on her heart and needed open heart surgery for a replacement of two heart valves. This was going to be a risk because surgery is done with a patient on blood thinners, which she still couldnt be on. After days of debate the decision was made to go with pig valves over artificial, and she was likely to survive surgery although there are always risks involved. In mid November Grandma made it through, like I expected her to because again, shes amazing, but it was a set back. There was still the risk of some vegitation being left over and of the MRSA attacking the new valves. Things continued to move in the right direction, she was mobile on her right side but little to no movement on the left. It could just take time they said, theres no way to know what functions she will regain. She was eating, brushing her teeth, moving from the bed to the chair (with help) and communicating with us at a higher level. Things were looking up and we were all feeling confident. On December 1st, 2011 Grandma was moved to the UVA rehab center Health South. A month and a half after her 1% chance, and making it past the 80% mortality rate for the first month ALONG WITH open heart surgery, she was moving to rehab. Shed surprised many with her progress, but we all knew it was just because she was a strong and willful woman and God clearly loved her as much as we did. He gave her a miracle, or maybe more, and we knew it. She was amazing. Even though she was defying the odds, it didnt come with optimism every moment. The hospital stay, the fighting for her life through things that should have taken her, and through a brain surgery, open heart surgery, and small brain surgery to put a shunt in all took a tole on her enthusiasm. Grandma was battling with depression and emotions were out of control. She wasnt the same. The smallest thing was upsetting and it built up until she couldnt hold it in any more. Something as simple as having a sore bum from spending so much time in a wheelchair would bring her to tears. You know it was her worries and fears pushing her to that point but shed never admit it. Its hard to see someone you respect, who is that amazing and strong, who was worthy enough to be grandted a miracle from God, break down and cry. Theres nothing you can say or do to make her feel better, the situation has been hard on all of us, but no one has had it harder than her. She tried hard through her rehab, it was difficult, it was painful, it was tearful, but she tried. And tried. And tried. There were limitations because of her heart surgery, but she improved and conquered things in her path. She was able to walk with assistance. She was getting stronger and stronger. Then there were set backs. Pneumonia, the heart valve that was never 100%, and the stress of constant rehab. She improved so much then started to sink back down. She was supposed to come home January 10th, it got pushed back, there was another date set, it got pushed back. Things continued to get pushed back. The will of this amazing woman was decreasing as well. It was like a trap she was never going to get out of. Her young grandkids, young great grandkids, and the birth of her first great grandson were things she couldnt take part in. Only kids of a certain age could visit due to the MRSA. Family has always been the most important thing to Grandma, so missing out on them growing, and especially the birth, really took a toll on her. The constant worrying, the long trips to visit her, some of the family spending extended periods of time in the hospitality house located next to a bar and train tracks, it all took its toll. My grandfather, who was used to being a very busy man and constantly fiddling around with building things and working was now spending every moment by her side. She needed him. She cried if he wasnt there, he was her savior through all of this. The strong bond they share, the love they have, she needed that with her all the time to keep pushing. It made it hard on him, seeing her struggle and having to be there through it all. Sitting by her bedside holding her hand every moment because without it shed become depressed. He needed a release but he couldnt get it, and the thoughts of shame filled him along with everyone else. At some point we all felt shameful. How dare we move on with our lives when she was struggling every day for hers. Not a day went by that I didnt spend thinking about her. Praying for her. Hoping God would continue to help her through. There were a few times she ended up back in the hospital. Bleeding problems and a fear it could cause another stroke, pneumonia making her heart work harder, MRSA effecting her and her heart. There was the possibility the MRSA had settled in the bone of her right knee and may need surgery. That brought on a lot of fears, that was her good leg, what would happen if she couldnt use it? Finally Grandma came home March 16 2012. She had recently spent a few weeks in the hospital because of pneumonia and another hole in her valve and her strength had deminished and her progress was sinking. She had to have one more heart surgery before coming home to repair where the valve was seperating due to the MRSA infection getting it. It was too risky to do open heart, so they did a less invasive surgery to repair the split. They felt confident, but knew it wasnt 100%. I went to visit and I sat there trying to think of what to discuss with her. Things were different. I wanted to soak it all in, just being with her, as I was now shown (again) that tomorrow is not promised. This time I was given a second chance with someone and I didnt know how to approach it. What do you say to someone who has been fighting for their life and beat all odds. Other than how you love them. But that sounds too much like a goodbye, and Id had that talk with too many times while she was still in critical condition. So we talked about petty unimportant things. I hated it, I hated acting like nothing had happened but what else do you do? I soaked up every moment though, even as she started to doze off in her chair, I just watched her and stopped talking. I let her sleep and just thought of all the memories I had with her. I felt uneasy, just like the day she had her stroke before it happened. Something didnt seem right. Even though I had prayed a million times to help me follow my instincts more I yet again shoved them aside. No, she was amazing and things were fine. So I paid attention to the petty stuff and ignored my gut. We didnt stay too long, I told myself we would go back soon and see her again when she was stronger and feeling better. We never made it back there. Something ill always regret, yet again I didnt make the time for the truly important things in life. The sole most important person to me, and I pushed it off for tomorrow. After a short time at home she was getting weaker, and then on 3/24/12 her heart valve ruptured and caused massive internal bleeding. She was rushed to the hospital and things were not looking good. Shes been through a lot, there was speculation there had been a small bleed happening for some time, but the rupture and massive bleeding was an extremely critical situation. Again, were all piled in the family room at the hospital waiting in numb silence for the results of the tests. She was having multi-organ failure, things were hanging in the balance. The hospital again did not have the facilities to keep her and UVA had no room for her, this meant a longer trip to Richmond. We were told that if she didnt go there she'd die before the end of the night, but she was unstable and transporting her was dangerous. We were told that chances were, she wouldn't make it through the flight to Richmond. Were all in shock. How can she overcome so much and then have this happen? What more could her and her body take? Was this stupid heart valve really going to be the end of her through everything else? When we got the call she had made it to Richmond we were all astonished, yet worried. Yes, shes amazing, and obviously she is still fighting and clearly God is still on her side but surgery was a huge risk when she was as unstable as she was. My mother and some other family members drove the 2 1/2hrs to Richmond. I stayed behind due to being sick with a cold and being pregnant. Pregnant with the child that she prayed and prayed about, saying "I want to live long enough to see Meagan give birth". She was so ecstatic I was having a child and she was the first person I told. We discussed names, talked about his room, skyped over baby perperations. Yet I was only 5 months Pregnant and she was fighting for her life every moment. I had always planned on having her in the room when I gave birth, and that was slowly being shattered. I didnt feel strong enough to go through it all again. I just couldnt. I couldnt handle the emotions. But who am I to say I couldnt take that when shes made it through how much? Again the shame came, along with the worry, fear, sadness, and all over numbness. After a long talk with the doctors a decision was made to do immediate heart surgery. The doctors were very clear, they wouldnt typically do that surgery, or any, on someone in her position. They would simply try to make her as comfortable as possible until she passed. But, because she is amazing, had had a miraculous recovery, and had shown she clearly had stuff in her life worth fighting for the doctors decided theyd take the chance and perform the surgery. Damage from the bleed would be assessed later, much later. There was no way of knowing the extent of what had been done to her brain, organs, and heart. All they knew was that without surgery she would die, with surgery she might die. Again there was the wait. Waiting for any sort of answer. Waiting for any sort of response. She made it through surgery and for the first time the Doctors felt 100% about her heart. They had removed all vegitation and connected the valve to good tissue and felt it would hold. That was a relief. But was it a little too late? Why didnt UVA do that before? Would she even be in this position had it been done that way the first time? You can play with the "what if's" in life until you what-if yourself to death. I still prayed, and I still felt hope and faith in the situation. On March 26 she opened her eyes and was responsive to the nurses asking if she was in pain. She had pulled through another surgery but the road ahead was so unclear. She was on dialisis, needed to be on a breathing machine, and infection was found in her intestines. Surgery was done for that, but the tissue was too weak to close up afterwards. There was a resistant strand of bacteria found in her body which was posing problems in the healing process, adding it to everything else she had no energy left in her. There was too much to fight so she spent most of her time sleeping. I didnt go see her in Richmond for a very long time. I made excuse after excuse. Really, I didnt want to accept reality was all. I didnt want to admit that, to anyone including myself, but I couldnt bring myself to face what seemed like the truth. No matter how much faith I put into her getting better I ultimately had a nagging feeling that this was all too much for her. I regret not spending more time with her but it was like if I acted like things were normal then I could trick myself into thinking they were. And all would be fine. Grandma continued to fight but her body was giving up on her. She at one point told my mother that she wanted to fight, but her body wasnt going to let her. She knew what was going to happen, but she didnt want to give up or disappoint us. She continued on, in pain, just for her family. That was always the most important thing to her. She started to have heart problems, it was too weak to recover and was wanting to quite on her. Thats when I made my trip up to Richmond. I was scared the whole way. All I could think about was that I wasnt strong enough to go through this again and especially not being 6 months pregnant. I was scared. Scared for me, my unborn son, my family, and my amazing Grandmother who was going through it all. I had been selfish, selfish keeping myself from her and talking with her simply because I was weak. I was afraid to face her, especially since I knew what it meant. This was my goodbye. We all knew there was no turning around. She had already been on borrowed time, which I was extremely thankful for, but at some point that time runs out. I walked into that room, and I silently cried to myself as I watched her sleeping. She was so thin, so weak, she wasnt herself. She wasnt the strong and powerful woman that could change the energy in a room just by walking in. She was frail, she was sickly, she was weak. I started talking and her eyes popped open wide in surprise. I forced a laugh and joked with her about her surprise but inside I wanted to die. How was it that I had been away for so long that she was surprised, surprised!!!, to see me? How could I do that to her! She has some light flicker through her eyes, she grabbed my hand, and I continued to talk. I tried to tell her the impact shed made in my life, something that was not easy to put into words. No one will ever know the extent of what she has done for me. I owe who I am to her. Even as a young child in elementary school and through high school she was my topic of choice in writing papers. She was what I talked about, desired to be like, and wanted to share with the world. She dozed off shortly into the conversation but offered occasional nods and mouthing "I love you's" to me. It broke my heart, and I choked up as I said it, but I told her "I know youve been fighting, and I want nothing more than for you to continue fighting, but you and only you know if thats the right choice and I want you to know that if its not the choice, and you have to stop, please do so without shame. Your not going to disappiont us because your the most exceptional woman ever and youve already proved how amazing and strong you are as well as proving that God thought you were worthy of a miracle. Youve proved enough and we all know how much you love us. You have to do whats right for you, and if that means giving up the fight, then do so without worrying about us. We support you and know youll do whats best. Listen to God and please dont worry about disappointing us!" I meant it, but I didnt want to believe it. I wanted SO BAD to tell her to keep fighting, to tell her that I couldnt lose her, to tell her that I dont know what Id do without her in my life. But I couldnt. I couldnt make her keep fighting and hurting herself just to make me happy. Because she would. I was her grandbaby, not just her grandchild. She did everything to please me because we had a special bond. I couldnt put that sort of pressure on her. But I didnt want to lose her either. It was the hardest, and most mature, decision I have EVER made. She gave me a squeeze and I eventually said my final goodbye. My brother went in after, where he poured his heart out to her. He told her things hes never opened up about to anyone, and that the only person who could ever get him straight was her. She had an amazing impact on everyone. His goodbye was extremely heartfelt and honest. I wasnt there for it, but I know because I know him well and understand the impact she made on us. My heart was overwhelmed with warmth when he came back and said the only time she opened her eyes was when he mentioned my name. That sealed the faith I always had in our relationship. Yet, again, I meant that much to her and she to me and I left her. Abandoned her. Refused to go see her because I was weak. I prayed for forgiveness from her for that. I know she forgives, because I could never do wrong in her eyes and she was always an exceptionally understanding individual. But that doesnt mean it still doesnt hurt. That its still not a flaw in my character at the time that I would love to just go back and slap myself for being so stupid. Yet I did it again. After that visit I didnt go back. I couldnt. The decision was made several days later to take her off of life support because we werent doing her any good. I chose not to go see her again. I told my mother that I had said my goodbyes. I still deal wtih the guilt of not seeing her agian. But I couldnt, I didnt want to remember her like that. I let her go as I was hours away from her. Shortly before passing my mother called me to let me speak with her. She said that was the most lucid she had been in quite some time. I always seemed to get the side of her. Like it was Gods way of protecting my cherished memories not to see or hear her in such a bad state. (In a way). I said goodbye over the phone as I sat in my car bawling my eyes out. I wanted to hug her one last time. I wanted to hear her say "Love you baby" as she patted my butt and kissed my cheek. I just wanted her. The call was brief but I wanted to drag it out forever. I told her I loved her, that she was amazing and meant the world to me and I owed my life to her. And I cried and cried. She passed away not too long after. I was told some of her final words were "Dont worry, Im ok" and that gave me hope. She really was with God and he was leading her home. She knew the path she was going and she gave us a message to help us cope and move on. She did always look out for her family, even in her last moments that was her only thought. How to help her family. I take solice in the phrase. It means a lot to me. Im thankful that God felt strongly enough for this amazing woman that he gave her several miracles. In the end, yes, she passed way too soon, but she could have passed much sooner. She could have died that day, back in October, all of a sudden due to a stroke. But she didnt. He wanted to help her teach us even more life lessons. Show us how to fight and what to fight for. Bring a family together and bond them, strengthen them, and humble them all at the same time. She taught us more in her last seven months than she did in our whole lives, and that is saying A LOT. I have never, and will never, meet someone as exceptionally spectacular as her ever again. She had a true genuine soul, and honest nature, and never judged. She was the epitomy of what you should live your life by accoridng to God. She would light up the room and fill it with laughter and no matter what type of person you were, you always wanted to do better when she was around. She made me better and I will continue to strive to do better in my life and be the person she was and I have her to look up to for that. Only those she touched truly understand her impact, and its something words will never be able to describe. I love you, with all of my heart and being, Grandma. I think of you every day and my heart still aches to have lost such an exceptional person. I always knew she would die young because she was too good to stay long. I wish it hadnt been true, but at least I can brag about having you as my grandmother. If only everyone had been as graced as me. I thank the Lord for having you, and I thank you for showing me the right way and guiding me throughout the years. I pray I do half as well as you at raising my family as the years come. Please continue to guide me as you always have and I will continue to try and make you proud. Love isnt a strong enough word to describe my feelings for my Grandmother, and amazing doesnt do her justice either, but its all I have to say. Thank you, and I love you to the most amazing woman I have ever met. MY Grandmother.